VIVIEN Renée (Pauline Tarn, dite) [London, 1877 - Paris, 190 - Lot 205

VIVIEN Renée (Pauline Tarn, dite) [London, 1877 - Paris, 1909], French-speaking English writer. Set of 7 autograph letters signed, addressed to Kérimé, dated 1905: - 1905]; 4 pages in-8°. "How many heartfelt thanks I send you, from the bottom of my charmed heart! The carpet you are sending me has something prestigious about it, - It resembles a magic carpet from the Thousand and One Nights, a carpet that, rising into the air, carries the lover towards the beloved. This carpet is as beautiful as a garden. How I love its subtle and rare nuances: those shy pinks, those heartbreaking greens, those tones of yellowed ivory [...]. The sweets made me think of oriental feasts. [...] Like Aladdin, I tasted food of enchantment, thanks to you, my sweet Magician." - 1905]; 8 pages in-8°. "Your letter makes me panic and despair. You no longer write to me! You won't let me write to you! I beg you, dear, don't be cruel. I'm suffering abominably. I can't think of anything else but this great sorrow that darkens my whole poor, distraught life. Have mercy! I love you... And this love of a stranger has crept into my veins like a sweet, deadly poison. You are dearer to me, in your gracefulness, and with your dear soul guessed, than any woman I've ever known. You know I'll love no one but you. You are my fearsome and charming destiny. And I'm going towards you as one goes towards a smiling peril. Whether you like it or not, I will love you to the death of my heart - my tormented heart that has loved in vain and passionately and has not yet exhausted its fervor - you see? [...] Would you esteem me, say, if I broke Eva's poor heart, if I unjustly caused suffering to a woman who loves me and whose faithful tenderness I neglect for your radiant, glimpsed image?" - [1905]; 8 pages in-8°. "You reveal yourself to me under ever more seductive, ever more charming features. How I adore you as an Egyptian! You are as beautiful as the night itself - and I love you infinitely. Your dress has folds of natural majesty - you can feel that it loves your harmonious body - that it wraps it in a caress of fabric. And your eyes are both ardent and mysterious. Your beauty attracts me dangerously; you have a strange grace that obsesses, like music, like perfume. [...] I'm in Nice where I have a villa. [...] I'll send you a few volumes that I liked - and whose authors I don't know. "Ossit" is apparently a woman - "Gérard d'Houville" too - Ivan Strammich and Jacques Fréhel too. Please tell me what you think of these books - I value your opinion. You're a lovely little critic!" - [1905]; 8 pages in-8°. "Didn't I promise you, my Beloved, to send you some verses written for you alone and that you alone will read? Here they are - they belong to you in the secret of our love [...] It's been a long time since I received from you one of those letters that sing so musically in my soul. Write to me again, Kérimé, [...] I thirst for your letters like sunny, singing water Write to me again... What a wonderful thought you had, to have yourself photographed for me, wearing on your fairy finger the little ring, the poor ring I gave you as a token of love! Your soul is a perfume. You are inexpressibly sweet. [...] I'm sending you, my dear Douceur, an Easter egg to assure you of my constant loving thought. Do you think a little of me, who embraces you with my fervent dreams? My thoughts are on your lips, like tenacious kisses." - [1905]; 7 1/2 pages in-8°. "I write to you in a trembling joy, in an almost frightened joy. [...] Something inexplicable draws me, carries me towards you... something inexplicable and yet so simple and thoughtful... And as powerful as instinct... I've been in a lot of pain again these days... Very unwell, but I'm getting better. It's the summer, the terrible summer that exhausts and wears me out. But I'll find enough strength to reach you... To the living miracle that you are. [...] (Sickness alone has distracted my train of thought to such an extent that I forgot to thank you! Please forgive me... I was so close to that great dark void: death...)". - 1905]; 3 1/2 pages in-8°. "You may be surprised to learn that I intend to spend a week in Constantinople in the first days of August. Will I have the good fortune to see you? It would be a great, great pleasure to finally meet my unknown correspondent, whose graceful letters I have greatly enjoyed,